


Confessions of a Feverish Mind

by BlackVelvet42



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:11:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVelvet42/pseuds/BlackVelvet42
Summary: "Mid-song, she turned to him, blew him a kiss, and giggled, making it painfully clear she was far from being herself."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My humble thank you to Cheile and Caladenia for the beta.

* * *

 

A warm, throaty laugh greeted Chakotay at the sickbay doors, stopping him on his tracks. The Doctor had recommended he come over without delay, giving the impression that Kathryn’s condition was severe, but the light-hearted sound traveling across the room implied the exact opposite, instantly easing the worst of his worry.

Stepping inside, Chakotay couldn’t help but smile at the sight opening before him.

The Doctor was frowning over tricorder readings, serious and professional and visibly irritated at his patient sitting at the edge of the bed, swinging her legs and bursting into song without a single care about the correct melody or lyrics.

“Doctor, any progress?” Chakotay asked over the song.

“Captain, please, I ask you again, keep your voice down,” the Doctor tried, to no avail. “We need to talk in my office, Commander. She is not responding to speech anymore.”

The EMH walked through the force field, shuddering at a high note the captain didn’t quite reach, but Kathryn continued to sing, indifferent to the people and events around her.

Wondering briefly why the Doctor felt it was necessary to quarantine her even though the rest of the crew had now been vaccinated, Chakotay took one more look at the woman who meant more to him than she probably should. 

Her eyes were unfocused, her cheeks colored with fever, appearing almost intoxicated. But most of all, she was just utterly, undeniably, happy. Lost in a better world without the harsh realities of their journey, no obligation or responsibility shadowing her joy, no alien viruses threatening her and her crew.

Mid-song, she turned to him, blew him a kiss, and giggled, making it painfully clear she was far from being herself. Nevertheless, her radiant smile lit a familiar tenderness in his chest. Even if her cheerfulness was merely a symptom of the disease, it felt good to see her carefree for a change.

“I thought the locals described this illness as a fate worse than death, something they dreaded more than anything else on their planet? Or does it affect humans differently?” Chakotay asked, following him to the office.

“The virus has the same effects on every sentient species as far as I know, Commander. We’re only witnessing the first stages of its manifestation.”

With those words, Chakotay’s concern was back. “Any luck in finding a cure?”

The Doctor shook his head. “The virus has already infiltrated her brain, beginning its natural development. There’s nothing I can do. But from everything I have heard and learned, this disease is not usually fatal, even if it is intense and trying.”

“Not _usually_ fatal?”

Deep in discussion, they didn’t notice the change in the atmosphere until a blow against the force field startled them.

Even from a distance, it was evident that the captain’s state had shifted. Gone was the girlish smile and joyful singing, and instead, they were met with a death glare and a low growl worthy of a Klingon.

“What is this?” she demanded, striking the barrier with her fist. Despite the pain the energy field induced, she didn’t even flinch.

The Doctor walked back to his patient and silently focused on scanning her for more information.

“From what I understand, the virus will sweep through the entire central nervous system one region at a time,” he explained to Chakotay, ignoring the captain. “So far, it has taken over the frontal cortex and shut down the usual neural pathways for inhibition and control, allowing other areas to act freely. The limbic system is especially active, parts of the parietal lobe suppressed, but Broca’s area is beginning to fire up… fascinating…”

He snapped the tricorder shut and regarded Chakotay’s no doubt confused expression.

“Simply put it, the captain will not be herself for the next several hours, perhaps days. Her behavior and reactions will be coarse, even grotesque, as unfiltered emotions and memories will push through one by one in an unpredictable manner. The best we can do is to keep her safe and let the virus run its course.”

The information had no time to sink in. 

From the corner of his vision, Chakotay saw Kathryn running towards the force field. She bounced off the invisible wall and landed on the floor, shocked and dizzy. But only a moment later, she was getting up for another try, as if determined to break free from her prison with the sheer power of will, without care or knowledge of the simple technology thwarting her attempts.

Unaffected by her display, the Doctor steered his way back to his office, eyes glued to the tricorder.

Chakotay glanced at both in turn. Neither the Doctor’s emotionless reaction nor Kathryn’s mindless struggle made any sense. In a futile gesture to stop her, he raised his hands only to witness her hitting the wall again and falling down with a choked groan.

“Doctor, please. How do we help her?”

“We don’t,” came the casual reply. “There is no cure and no way to ease her condition. The best course of action is to keep her isolated. What you should know, Commander, is that the symptoms will get a lot worse before she’ll recover. I suggest you concentrate on your duties on the bridge and leave this in my capable hands.”

Most of what the EMH said went unnoticed. A cold chill moving down his spine, Chakotay stared at Kathryn lying motionless on the floor where she had landed and willed her to get up again, counting the seconds until too many had passed.

“Lower the force field and let me in.”

When his request wasn’t immediately granted, he barked out in growing panic, “Right NOW!”

The barrier flickered off and he rushed to the captain, kneeling by her side to examine her, but instead of finding a helpless lady in need of rescue, her eyes shot open and met his in a berserk frenzy.

She darted up and before he had even registered what was happening, her fingers were wound tightly around his throat, her mouth spitting out words he didn’t quite grasp.

“Seska? Really?!”

He twisted her hands off and backed away, gasping for air, but she attacked again, this time aiming at his eyes.

“Kellin? Valerie? RILEY?” she hissed between gritted teeth, her arms locked in his iron grip. 

Why she would bring up those names on a moment like this and with such rage he didn’t understand and had no time to speculate. She was clearly set out to rip him apart with her bare hands and it wasn’t at all certain he could keep her at bay.

Like a wild cat, she somehow managed to get away from him and find another angle to attack. Under her breath, he heard her growling random words like ‘useless’, ‘incompetent’, and ‘shuttle’, and even though her wrath was obviously the result of the illness, the insinuation made him uncomfortable.

Maybe he was too gentle, his attempts to soothe her too weak. Instead of helping her, his presence only seemed to provoke her further.

“Doctor!” he called, hoping for some advice and backup.

With a self-satisfied smirk, the EMH peeked out of the office. “Excellent work, Commander. In all likelihood, she won’t remember a thing, but I’m sure she’ll appreciate your efforts to help when we tell her.”

Considering a retort that would wipe away the smug look on the Doctor’s face, it was pure luck Chakotay turned back in time to realize the captain was getting ready to kick him where it would hurt most.

“That’s IT, Kathryn!” he finally snapped, taking a grip on her slender shoulders and slamming her against the bulkhead with an audible thump.

Eyes flaming and lips spilling curses followed by ‘ancient legend’ and ‘angry warrior’, she fought to get away, but pinned with the full weight of his body, her wrists held on both sides of her head, and her knees kept away from his groin, she stayed exactly where he wanted. 

The sensation wasn’t at all unpleasant. To hold her still and bend her to his will, her breath hot on his neck even if that breath was accompanied by teeth trying to bite his ear off.

“Can’t you sedate her?” he shouted.

Taking his time, the Doctor came out of his office and walked to them. “Regretfully, no. The virus requires a fully functional brain to play with. If I sedate her, the virus will lay dormant and resume when she is awake again. And frankly, I don’t see the need to medicate her. You went there on your own, against my recommendation.”

Chakotay felt the tenseness in Kathryn gradually easing and glanced back at her. Her lids fluttered in what appeared to signal confusion, but he wasn’t ready to take any chances, so he continued holding her in place.

The Doctor let out a deep sigh and stepped through the force field. “Look. This really is unnecessary. She does not need you, Commander. In fact, if she were able to choose, she would probably want to be left alone.”

The mere thought was incomprehensible. “What do you mean? We can’t just leave her like this.”

The Doctor regarded them closely before answering. “The locals fear this disease for a very good reason, but the reason isn’t related to physical health,” he explained, taking some more readings of her. “For hours or even days, the victim is not in control of herself, but at the mercy of this virus. Without the natural shields of modesty or plain common sense, she is defenseless, vulnerable to triggers both internal and external. No one can predict the outcome.”

He paused and looked straight at Chakotay. “It takes only seconds to destroy a reputation, a relationship. Things that have taken years to build. Only a few words wrongly timed, one truth that should have been left unsaid. In this society, anyone infected is sealed into a cave or a cellar, shut out of the world and kept there until the person is fully well again.”

“That’s barbaric,“ Chakotay stated. “I could never leave her suffering alone. She’s in pain, she might hurt herself again. Even if we have no cure for her, she needs someone to be there for her, to see to it that she’ll be alright.”

With no apparent reason, she had turned to gaze at him, eyes wide and glistening as he spoke, her lips beginning to tremble. Chakotay needed but one look at her to come to a decision. “Beam us to her quarters,” he said quietly. “Please. I’ll take care of her.”

Her weary head fell against his chest and he let go of her wrists to gather her in his embrace. All strength drained from her being, the first sobs shaking her entire form.

For a moment, Chakotay was sure the Doctor would object and flood him with solid medical reasons why this was a poor idea. But as if recognizing an argument he was doomed to lose, the EMH only pursed his lips in disapproval, then shrugged and called the computer for a lock and a destination.

“Contact me when you get into trouble, Commander.” 

As the shimmering veil of the transporter beam enveloped them, Chakotay found himself pondering the Doctor’s choice of words.

Not if, but when.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

No sooner had the transporter beam released them than the captain took in a shivering breath and burst into tears, collapsing into his arms for support. Holding her, soft and weak, stirred inside him another long-standing, guilty pleasure.

As much as he admired her unwavering confidence, her stubborn will, and even her reckless courage, that strength and independence left little room for needing anything or anyone. The moments he had seen her hurt were few and far between, and she had never been one to welcome help when not absolutely necessary. Although it was only a manifestation of her illness, feeling her take solace from him warmed his heart.

“I’m a failure, Chakotay,” she finally hiccupped through the sobs, clutching the front of his uniform jacket. “I’ve let everybody down.”

Her statement was so pathetic, so uncharacteristic of the woman he had come to know that he would have smiled if she wasn’t so devastated and convinced she was speaking the truth.

Considering this wouldn’t be the last viral-induced disclosure that evening, he led her to the couch wondering what the best course of action would be. Maybe he would just play along and then let whatever she said be forgotten as if he had never heard anything.

After all, she wasn’t really herself.

“Why would you say something like that, Kathryn?” he asked gently while rubbing her back. “I think the exact opposite.”

A gesture meant to calm only provoked more desperation from her. It had been a while since he consoled anyone this upset. He should have remembered words were usually unnecessary, if not harmful. First lesson learned, he cursed in his mind and he made a mental note to stay quiet from now on whenever he could.

Assuming the role of a listener, it soon became clear that her thoughts were running as wild and free as her tears and that she had a pressing need to talk. Without further attempts to interrupt her, he let her pour out every last drop of guilt and regret she held in her heart.

Unsurprisingly, she began with the Caretaker and her choice that had condemned the crew to a life-long journey through uncharted dangers without any certainty of ever getting to see home again. From there, she painfully worked her way through their entire travel so far, listing her perceived command errors with excruciating preciseness, including those decisions she had held on to despite his objections.

And, dear lord, how merciless she was.

She gave herself no credit whatsoever, no recognition of the lives she had saved or the help she had unselfishly offered, only whipped herself with such rigor and severity that Chakotay found himself contemplating the possibility that the blame and self-hatred weren’t symptoms after all, at least not entirely, but something she carried within every day.

At some point, she turned to her many flaws in relationships. How she had loved but not enough, never fully, giving merely parts of herself and keeping one foot out the door, while she had been given everything. How she had lost the chance for a family and a child she longed for because her focus had always been somewhere else: in her career, her promotions, her captaincy of a state-of-the-art starship which she had then managed to strand to the farthest reaches of the galaxy.

For a second, it looked like she might start the monologue all over again, trapped in an endless spiral where all failure was hers and hers alone, but any success was somehow diminished by bringing in luck or coincidence or someone else’s merit. Suddenly she paused and tilted her face up from his chest where she had been cradled the whole time.

Her cheeks were wet and her nose red, but her eyes were bright and blue like a shimmering ocean of affection.

“Oh, and you, Chakotay,” she whispered, reaching out to touch the side of his face. “I’ve never given you enough, not what you deserved and not what I wanted, as my first officer and my friend and my…”

Mid-sentence, he hushed her quiet and she let her the dangerous words fade. What she was about to say, he didn’t want to hear. Not like this, even if there was more than the tiniest grain of truth in her confession. 

She fell silent sighing softly, molding into his comfort as he pulled her to him, her sorrow and self-loathing burned out with a fiery flame, he hoped.

For one fleeting moment, he dared to press his face into her hair, inhale her scent, and memorize the feel of her body against his, before letting her go. “I’m going to get us something to drink. Would you like a coffee?”

She looked tired and disoriented, but mentioning her favorite beverage sparked a recognition and a nod. He watched her lean back and close her eyes as if to find a peace he knew her restless mind would not yet permit. Walking to the replicator he wished her – and himself – the strength to endure.

According to the Doctor, there would be much more to come before morning and he had already learned this sudden calm was only a shift, a silence between storms.

 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

Coffee and tea in his hands, he turned around from the replicator only to face an empty room. Confused, he was about to call her when he heard a shivering breath at the far corner. 

Moving in closer, he found her sitting on the floor behind the couch, shrouded by the shadows. She was hugging her legs, rocking herself back and forth, appearing so small and frail that he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms all over again.

He placed the cups on the table, knelt by her side, and touched her shoulder, careful not to startle her. Eyes impossibly wide, she withdrew further into the corner, staring at him from her safe place like he was a ghost.

“Kathryn?”

If anything, this was not her at all. Her confidence and spirit had shrunk into nothingness, due to what? Fear? For as long as he had known her, she hadn’t been afraid of anything.

“All those deaths, Chakotay,” she whispered with a feverish pitch. “Every life I promised to protect, even poor Naomi…”

As her voice filled the air again, fluctuating from a quiet fright into an open, full-blown terror, he soon understood that she wasn’t speaking of the lives already lost under her command, but those of the remaining crew.

She was living through the horrors of losing each and every one of them to the numerous dangers of deep-space travel, certain that somehow, somewhere, their luck, as she defined their survival so far, would come to an end.

Accepting there wasn’t much he could do but listen and be there for her, he sat down by her side in the shadows, leaning as close to her as he thought she would allow.

He glanced at her profile, beautiful to him as always, familiar features distorted with emotions he’d never witnessed on her.

Blessed with intellect and vivid imagination, she listed all the threats they had encountered so far and all they hadn’t, describing images of countless, horrible ways to die in an unknown quadrant.

Were these the fears that kept her up at night? In her moments of weakness, moments she kept carefully hidden, were these the nightmares she saw painted behind her eyelids?

Detailed visions of unforeseen accidents, fatal explosions, and failing life-support. First contacts gone wrong, hostile species out to capture or kill. Diseases without a cure, injuries beyond their capabilities to heal. Throats sliced, bones crushed, organs removed, or people sold, individuals treated as nothing more than entertainment or merchandise. 

He never once blinked at her depictions, but inside, his heart went cold. Years into their journey, he was the closest to her, but how well did he really know her? 

At the end of the day, she was always alone, with her memories and dreams, her fears and regrets. Not because she couldn’t have found trusted friends on board _Voyager_ if she had wanted to, but by her own choice, convinced of the necessity to keep herself detached and isolated to ensure their safety.

In his opinion, that was a sacrifice too great, even for her. No human could thrive without the warmth and closeness of another but, eventually, wither or harden. So day after day he’d done what he could; stayed as near as she was comfortable with, offered his friendship in a way he believed she would approve of, respecting her decisions and aiding her in her struggle to fulfill the expectations and the burdens laid upon her.

The more he listened to her inner talk, the secrets she had kept to herself all these years, beliefs and feelings perhaps amplified by the infection in her brain, but no doubt hers all the same, he realized the Doctor had been right.

Had she been able to make the call, she would have preferred to be left alone. The help he could provide was trivial and he couldn’t rid himself of the growing sense that he had entered a deeply private space without permission.

When her current cycle appeared to be coming to an end, he decided to take his leave, contact the Doctor, and get him to monitor her condition remotely.

“Could I have some water?” she asked, swallowing with difficulty, her mouth dry from talking non-stop for so long.

Chakotay helped her up on the couch and regarded her petite form slumped against the cushions. Even when confronted with excruciating pain or loss, he’d never seen her so exhausted, yet after intense emotions, her strength was drained.

“Would you like a bath as well? I could run it for you. Maybe you could try to relax and rest for a while.”

A brief smile of gratitude passed her lips.

Setting the temperature and watching the tub fill with gently steaming water was a welcome break. The past hours had been trying for him too, and he let his gaze wander while attempting to find calm.

On the edge of the bathtub, he noticed the bath oil that would probably carry her scent if he were to open it and the robe she would wrap around herself after soaking away the stress of the day. He imagined the glass of wine she would sometimes enjoy, the book by her bed to keep her company before sleep.

He turned back to stare at the twirling water to stop his thoughts from trailing any further. They were pointless. He was an intruder, in her bathroom as well as in her inner world.

All the intimate knowledge he had unexpectedly gained would have to be forgotten the second he left her quarters. He didn’t so much doubt the accuracy of her confessions anymore, but she hadn’t willingly chosen to share them with him. Also, he had no way of knowing to what extent they were exaggerated by her condition, so none of what he had heard really mattered anyway.

Even still, he would have to tell her everything about this night when she was well again, and that was a conversation he wasn’t looking forward to.

Shoulders hunched, he sighed and stood up to return to her. 

“Kathryn, look, I think it’s best if the Doctor would…” he began, but the rest of that thought, as well as any other wisdom he had gathered about their situation, vanished at the sight waiting for him.

 

* * *

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

 

No matter how often he had imagined her beauty beneath the uniform, the picture in his head did not do justice to the reality. Standing in the middle of the darkened room, her silhouette drawn against the lights of passing stars, she was a magical creature from another world.

Frozen where he stood, hypnotized at the sight, he watched the shadows dance on her curves as she moved closer, pulling the pins from her hair one by one, letting the tresses fall over her breasts like a waterfall.

But then she whispered his name and he snapped back to sanity.

Her voice was breathless and raw, echoing a hunger from deep within, but as much as he wanted to surrender to its sweetness, the tone was one she had never used in his presence before, highlighting the fact that this, too, was robbed from her lips without consent.

“Kathryn, stop. This has gone too far,” he said, steeling his words with a harshness he didn’t feel.

Forcing his gaze away from her to protect what little was left of her privacy, he fetched a blanket and draped it around her shoulders. She made no attempt to hold the cover, only slid her hands up his chest and curled her arms around him. Features soft with desire, eyes clouded with lust, she was a promise of bliss served right in front of him.

“No, Chakotay,” she breathed, her touch at the back of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. “We’ve waited long enough. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

Of all the things she had told him that evening, this was the worst. 

After hours of secrets and truths delivered on a whirlwind of emotion, hours of worrying about her and keeping himself calm, he was spent. With no energy left to shield himself, her unexpected disclosure cut right through to his heart.

What he would have given for the certainty that those words were true, offered at another time and place where they would have made a difference.

Her fingers caressed his hair and shoulders, and for the briefest of moments, he closed his eyes and relished the feeling, the wonder of her whispers and touches filling him with a bitter wish that everything was different. That they were just Kathryn and Chakotay, meeting somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant, free to act on this simplest of needs.

When he looked at her again, his resolve was back. He wrapped the blanket around her and pushed her an arm’s length away.

Passion dissolving into the pain of rejection, her eyes grew misty and her voice quivered. “Please, Chakotay, I want you so much it hurts.”

Later, he would blame that moment. This was his weakness, the one thing he was helpless to resist. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, he would go through hell and high water to make happen.

If only she had said something else, anything at all – trying to negotiate, demand, or order him to obey - then maybe he would have had the willpower to walk out. But she said please, followed by a barely suppressed sob, and the last shred of his determination to leave her, to take the Doctor’s advice even if it was a little late, faded away. She was hurting, thoroughly and completely. Regardless of the consequences, deserting her was not an option.  

He would never forget the way her eyes lit up when he reached out his hand and cupped her face. Like the sun emerging from the clouds, radiating hope and fulfillment of dreams repressed for too long, and an anticipation of pleasure that would wipe away years of loneliness.

Lips parted in a silent sigh, she leaned into his touch. The blanket slid to the floor, as he turned her around to face the fleeting stars, then gathered her into his embrace.

How he had waited for this moment, to be able to wrap his arms around her and press her soft body against his, to feel her melt under his touch and see her tilting her head to the side as an invitation for him to claim the tender spot on her neck.

Hovering an inch away from the perfection of her pale skin, her warmth on his lips, her hair tickling his cheek, he took a steadying breath to force out what had to be said. 

“I can’t do what you’re asking me to do, Kathryn. I won’t. Not like this.” Feeling her stiffen, he tightened his grip. “But I promise you, I will hold you until this phase passes, just like the others.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to kiss her, nor carry her to bed, her gasp was one of shock and betrayal. Fury fueled with lust, she struggled to get free, to turn around, and have what she craved, but this time he was prepared, his hold on her unrelenting.

“You don’t know, Chakotay, do you?” she panted, still restless but yielding. “I assumed you knew, but I should have told you, ages ago.”

And as her words started flowing again, there was no way he could have closed his ears or ignore the confessions more personal than any so far. In an uninterrupted stream of consciousness, everything he had ever hoped but didn’t dare to believe was true was laid bare.

She began from the day she had been given his file along with her assignment to capture him, sparking her interest. In that file, she had discovered an officer and a rebel, a man with conflicting motives and hidden passion. Instead of giving answers, the information had stirred more questions and soon she had found the target of her mission occupying her thoughts more than he should have.

She painted a picture so detailed it made him blush, of the first image of him on her viewscreen at the other end of the galaxy. The fire in his eyes and the defiance in his jaw had quickened her pulse and later the initial heated encounter on her bridge, seeking dominance, but recognizing an equal, had evoked a sudden tightness low in her belly.

Over the first few months, her attraction had grown fast, her fascination intensifying like a force of nature, leading to nights enjoying the touch of her fingers and the image of him in her mind, without expectations for anything more.

When she got to New Earth, her voice broke off and, in his heart, he triumphed.

He had not imagined her stealthy glances, her attention drifting to him every chance she got. Taking in the size of his hands, the width of his shoulders, dreaming of his strength, of pleasures untold. How ready she had been for him, the heat between them a spark away from igniting. An opportunity missed, a paradise lost.

The years that followed were filled with stabbing loneliness and a slowly dying hope.

How many times had she stopped at his door only to walk away; how many dinners had she opened her mouth to say the words only to utter something else; how many nights had she lain awake with silent tears, choking on the need to be held, by him.

Even in the midst of arguments, of misunderstandings and spite, her passion for him burned, deeper and more fiery than she could bear, threatening to tear her apart. To survive, she kept her longing locked behind protocol, and focused on the one goal that would set her free.

By the time her story reached the present, he couldn’t tell where her trembling ended and his began, the heat where their bodies met pulsing in rhythm of the newly acquired knowledge in his mind.

She wanted him, all of him.

As if that wasn’t enough: she had always wanted him.

And still, there was more.

 

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

 

Had he known what secrets were veiled behind her lingering glances and silent smiles, they would never have made it so many years apart. Her busy mind and wild imagination proved to produce fantasies far more vivid than his. And far more filthy.

She had an erotic scene envisioned with him in just about every situation he could think of, and then a few more.

On her ready room desk, with him hushing her quiet so no one would hear them. In her command chair on the bridge at full warp. Against the wall in the lift, lights flashing on emergency halt. During shore leaves surrounded by exotic wilderness. Late nights in both their quarters, bent over every piece of furniture. On the hard floor at the back of Delta Flyer autopiloted to a fake destination. Even in the mess kitchen over a midnight snack.

He could see these scenes as if they were happening before him, their bodies twining together again and again in urgency and need. Told in her throaty voice dripping with desire, his own arousal soon became impossible to hide.

Recognizing the opportunity his weakness provided, Kathryn leaned back in all her naked glory and rubbed her behind against his hardness without shame, delivering her message loud and clear, and he was honest enough to admit he was tempted.

Oh, so tempted.

With the little leeway she had in his tight grip, she moved her hand to stroke his arm wrapped beneath her breasts. Her other hand reached to caress his thigh, inching dangerously close to his groin, and he grasped her wrist to stop her.

“Kathryn, no. I’m sorry, but… no,” his managed, regretting the words even as he spoke them.

Roaring out her frustration, she fought once more to free herself from his hold, in vain. Only she wouldn’t be Kathryn Janeway if she didn’t invent another way to get what she wanted. Instead of trying to touch him, her free hand snaked down between her own thighs and with a long, satisfied sigh leaving her lips, her whole body relaxed.

If hearts could stop beating simply from too much emotional load, his would have.

She had finally found the stimulation she ached for, the one that would grant her the relief she craved, and he swallowed hard at realizing what his part in the next act would be.

However tortuous for him, there was no real need to prevent her from doing this to herself. His options, if there ever really had been any, were erased in a blink of an eye. He would hold her as promised and, in time, this phase would pass.

When she asked if he could please talk to her, he saw no reason to refuse. Such an innocent request giving the circumstances. If anything, perhaps talking would help him get through the experience.

Then again, a wiser man would have known there was nothing innocent in what they were doing.

“What do you want me to say, Kathryn?”

“Anything. Everything,” she whispered and added with more weight. “My name, Chakotay. I love to hear you say my name.”

Playing it safe, he decided to tell her his version of the first day they had met. How her face had appeared on his flickering viewscreen in the middle of chaos, a husky voice introducing herself and making an offer he hadn’t expected. She had been nothing like the Starfleet he despised. Regardless of her mission, she wasn’t hostile or condescending, but rational and respectful, speaking to him like an equal, sincere in her proposition to work together for a solution.

That was as far as he got. Next he knew, her breathing hitched and body went still, and all remaining sense of reality vanished then and there.

She had just come.

In his arms.

In less than three minutes.

By his words alone.

Well, maybe her fingers had given the physical stimulation, but the source of her arousal was his closeness, his voice the final push. If that wasn’t enough to intoxicate him with manly pride, her hoarse plea for more certainly did.

Ignoring the painful throbbing in his groin, he continued with a more elaborate description of the infinite details in her that caught his attention while on duty. A strand of hair framing her face. Her fingertips dancing on the console between their seats. The gentle sway of her hips when she walked ahead of him.

And this time, he didn’t miss a second of her climax. Not the tensing of her body, the silence, the focus, the gasp and cry and shivering sigh all falling from her lips as the most amazing sound he had ever heard.

Encouraged by her rapture and the fact that his hard-on was pressed firmly against her bare buttocks, he painted a bolder picture of him taking her face into his hands, running his thumb along her bottom lip and then claiming her mouth with a deep, unhurried kiss. 

In response to his words, her tongue darted out as if to feel the place he’d touched in his vision and to enhance the sensation she bit down on her lip.

Caught in the growing heat of their shared imaginings, he went on, describing how he would slide his hand under her shirt and trail over her smooth skin to cup her breast and relish the softness on his palm, then settle his mouth at the shell of her ear and whisper how beautiful she was.

Attuned to her every reaction, he could sense her arousal build up, rippling her muscles, clamping her belly, gradually winding her whole body tighter, until he stopped talking, then uttered just her name in a deep guttural voice which took her over the edge. She arched her back against him, her breath stuck somewhere between a moan and a roar when all the pent-up energy erupted and he was rewarded with his own name cried out at the crest of her passion.

She was so much more than beautiful; she was stunning. Even if he didn’t have the luxury of release, he would happily help her gain all the pleasure she hungered. And suddenly the struggle for restraint and control seemed pointless.

In the past hours, she had revealed everything she had kept locked in her heart, then come in his embrace three times without much effort. The repercussions of this night would be no less whatever he said or left unsaid. That line had been crossed a long time ago.

With this insight, he let his thoughts run free.

For her, for himself, for all the years spent side by side but never together, lost chances and a future that seemed to escape further away each day that passed by. If this was the only chance he would get to tell her about his feelings, he would damn well take it.

All subtlety and eloquence abandoned, he told her exactly how he wanted her.

Rough and fast, sweet and slow. To kiss her lips dark red and swollen, to thread his fingers into her hair, bare her vulnerable neck, and mark her with a sign to the world that she was his. To put his mouth between her thighs and lick her until she’d come screaming his name, knowing no one in the universe could give her what he did. To take her on the floor of her quarters, so she would remember him whenever she crossed the room, and make her come so many times she would pass out of exhaustion.

Watching her fall apart in his arms, he couldn’t help but marvel at the ease and intensity of their passion. There wasn’t a trace of the clumsiness of first-time lovers, working to find a common rhythm; their togetherness was already like a piece of art, honed and perfected with practice and dedication. He read her effortlessly, sensing her needs and predicting the moment of her climax. And she responded to his slightest cues, drawing pleasure from his visions and lead, unhindered in expressing her satisfaction.

He lost count after her sixth orgasm. Sunken into a realm of shared fantasy, he let the images from his mind lift them both into a high where his rough voice blended with her moans, rising and falling on the waves of her ecstasy, dreams and reality spinning around each other as they were only two sides of the same coin.

Ultimately, he came to his most persistent fantasy, his favorite of all times in all its simplicity.

One ordinary day after their shift, she would enter his quarters with tenderness in her eyes. No words would be necessary, their smiles enough to signal something had changed, and their time had finally arrived. He would kiss her thoroughly right there at the door, then carry her warm and happy to his bed. They would make love all through the night until the alarm would wake them from a slumber too short and prod them to duty with welcome aches reminding of pleasures awaiting again in the evening.

On his last words, she reached her peak, blazed and shuddered, and before he knew it, he had let out the final secret he’d kept from her, maybe even from himself.

That more than anything, he wanted to wake up with her in the morning, and every morning, for the rest of their lives.

That she had made him whole and gifted him with peace and joy he never expected to find.

That despite their hardship and quarrels, he still held onto the promises he had given on New Earth and would wait for her until the end of time if needed.

And that if she ever said yes to him, he would make sure she felt the absolute rightness of that choice as if the universe had shifted and settled into the position it had always been destined to find.

Crushing her to his chest, his face buried in the scent of her hair, he soon noticed she was calm again and he was the only one trembling, overwhelmed by an affection too powerful to contain.

In one horrible wave of understanding, the scale of what had crossed between them during the past hours rushed over him. The irrevocable consequences of truths and actions that could not be taken back or hidden ever again, tearing down years of work to achieve the balance they both required to survive in the Delta quadrant.

He jerked away from her like she was burning him, then managed to mumble an apology and a note he would check on her bath before he fled. In the solitude of her bathroom, he broke down.

Not a sound left him as crouched over the tub, clenching the edge, knuckles white, helpless tears pushing between pursed lids. How stupid could a person be? He had only wanted to help her, but ended up destroying everything. Exactly as the Doctor had warned him.

At what point did his judgement fail so badly? Not only had he allowed her to reveal her most private thoughts and feelings he had no right to hear, but he had, like a fool, engaged in a play that was no less intimate than an actual physical contact would have been.

Even though she wouldn’t remember a thing, he would, and this evening would haunt him without mercy. And he would have to tell her every last detail, tell her how he’d breached her trust and invaded her privacy when all she would have needed was to be left alone.

Her steps were light but audible, meant to be noticed but not to startle, which they did anyway.

Brushing his moist cheeks in haste, he cleared his throat and turned to brace himself for yet another avalanche of emotion from her, whatever was coming next. But there was none left. The second he saw her, he knew she was back to herself. Wrapped in the blanket, she looked tired and confused, in desperate need of food and rest, but herself in every manner he had learned about her.

She considered him in silence, but despite her cautious empathy, he felt exposed.

Swaying on his feet in a state of prolonged arousal, tears of torment clinging in his eyes, mind whirling with every revelation made that evening. And above all, the beginning of his regret and self-hatred for not taking the Doctor’s advice when everything was still salvageable. How they could ever go on as a command team after tonight, he couldn’t fathom.

Yet of all the looks he anticipated, he didn’t predict the one that settled on her face. Calm acceptance, like things hadn’t gone the way she had planned, but the result was still the same.

She approached him slowly, considerate of his inner turmoil, and if nothing else, seeing her well again soothed some of his upset. She was back, his counterpart, his equal. He would not have to make decisions by himself anymore.

Her hand came to lay on his chest, the ‘Thank you’ that accompanied the familiar gesture sealing the sense that the heat was over and all in their world would eventually find their rightful places again. But then her lips reached up to his, the feel of their soft velvet touch making him question her health once more.

But there was no mistaking it: the kiss was uniquely her. Her solemn lead, but also an inquiry. Is this alright, do you want this too?

And the only answer he had, the only one he had ever had for her, was to pull her closer and drown into a conversation without words, an admission and a pledge that he was hers; body, heart, and soul.

Where she found that strength to accept his devotion and to reassure him that nothing was broken but whole at last, was nothing short of a miracle. But when she drew back from their kiss, her legs no longer held her up and he got to hold her once more.

“I think I’ll have to skip that bath,” she murmured against his chest. “I’m exhausted. Please, take me to bed.”

She was asleep in his arms before he even got to her bedroom. Heart aching with the depth of his love, he laid her down and covered her gently, watching her features relax into a peaceful dream. He hoped she would sleep long and well, she certainly needed it. He, however, would stay awake until morning, her last words echoing in his mind, overflowing him with joy.

“Tomorrow, let’s not talk, Chakotay. I really liked your last fantasy, the one where I chime at your door after our shift. Tomorrow, let’s start with that.”  

 

* * *

 


End file.
